Page 28 of Vow of Vengeance
"Yes." I don't hesitate, following him out the door. "Where to?"
I'm really praying we don't have to go all the way back to Costa Rica again, either. We'd lose too much time. The first forty-eight hours of a person being missing are the most crucial, if I recall, and we don't even know when she went missing yet.
Declan smirks as he glances at me, awaiting some sort of reaction.
"Home."
Home, it turned out, meanthishome.
Luckily, he lives in the city, not far from Marissa's place. The building is massive and shiny, a glittering black facade that stretches high enough I feel a little dizzy trying to take it all in. He doesn't park, just pulls up to the building and hands his keys to a man in a suit.
Valet parking.
Nice touch.
"Let me guess," I say as we head toward the entrance, a revolving door that looks into a richly decorated lobby. "You live all the way at the top."
"Scared of heights?" He teases. I only roll my eyes, because he should know better by now. I handled the plane ride just fine.
"What about elevators?"
"Nope."
"Mr. Evers." The doorman greets him with a kind smile and a curt nod, not even bothering to look at me as he fixes his eyes ahead of him. It's low on my priority list, so I decide not to focus on it too much. The reality is that this man is probably used to seeing Declan come home with different women all the time. I try not to let that fact bother me as he escorts me through the revolving door into a warm lobby.
It's immaculate, every surface gleaming. The sharply dressed women behind the counter look up and smile at us—both of us, this time—and greet him the same as the doorman.
When we get to the elevator, there's actually a man standing there whose job it seems is simply to press the button to call the elevator. It's all opulent, weird.
Declan smirks at the look I give him, and as the doors part for us to get in, the elevator attendee chauffeurs me on.
When the doors shut and we're finally alone, I turn to Declan and let out the laugh I've been holding onto.
"You're really fucking rich, huh?"
He laughs but doesn't try to deny it. "Once you have money, it's easy to make money. That's the secret that they don't want you to know."
"What?" I laugh. "Who doesn't want me to know?"
"You know," he shrugs. "Them."
I don't know, but I let it go anyway because I'm more focused on watching him press the last button— P. There's Twenty-five buttons before that one, not including the ones for lobby, basement, and pool, so I deduce that we are, indeed, going all the way to the top.
That's confirmed when the doors open on a view of the city that looks like it came from a magazine. I didn't realize how close we were to Lake Michigan, but it glitters under the setting sun, an unobstructed view.
"Make yourself at home, obviously." Declan says, ushering me into the penthouse with a hand on my lower back.
I'm distantly aware of him moving behind me, but I'm too stunned by the view to pay attention to what he's doing. I walk toward the windows on instinct. Floor-to-ceiling and immaculately clean, it doesn't even look like they're windows. If I didn't know better, I'd think the whole side of his apartment was open to the outside.
In the distance, I can see the sky wheel and the pier. My heart squeezes, remembering the first time my mom took me to Navy Pier, before I ever had a sister. Before I ever lost one. We ate cheeseburgers and shopped and got ice cream before we left, walking along the pier and watching the water roll with the wind.
I'm so lost in the memory I don't recognize the tapping sound coming toward me until something swipes at my legs, trying to take me down. I spin, looking for the source of the attack, and barely get a glimpse at the animal before it jumps at me again, yapping excitedly.
I blink and stoop to pet the little white dog, but before I can, it jumps right into my arms. I catch her on instinct, but get no chance to recover as the dog begins licking my face, covering me with her little pink tongue.
"Damn." Declan chuckles, watching me try to wrestle the tiny dog away from me so that I can breathe a second. "I guess she likes you."
The dog barks playfully and ceases licking me long enough for me to get a look at her as she presses her paws against my chest, staring at me like she's searching my soul. She's a cute little thing, fluffy and white and much lighter than she looks under all that fur. Her pink collar glitters with rhinestones, and a pink bow holds a tiny tuft of fur on the top of her small head.
